Hunith Goes BAMF!
by ValkyrieVeela
Summary: Short oneshot. Post reveal. Merlin is banished from Camelot and heads home. Hunith doesn't like it when her boys fall out. She fixes the problem.


Hunith was sitting outside her shack (she was the poorest woman in the village – 'cottage' her arse) when her son arrived.

"Hi, Mum." Merlin slid down to sit on the ground next to her.

She raised a rather unimpressed eyebrow. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Merlin winced. He took a deep breath. . . .

"Arthurfoundoutaboutmymagicandkindasortamight'vepubliclybanishedme."

Hunith pursed her lips and stared determinedly in the direction on Camelot.

Merlin looked up nervously. ". . . . Mum. . . . ?"

Her boys hadn't been playing nicely.

Merlin followed his mother's gaze. And gulped.

Was she going to let them get away with it?

"Aw, _hell_ no!"

* * *

The double doors to the great hall burst open as a middle-aged woman strode into the room. The knights drew their weapons, ready to protect their king from the stranger whose facial expression was, quite frankly, terrifying. Arthur looked up.

"Hunith!" He smiled and rose to greet the woman, when he caught sight of her face. As quietly as he could, he swore under his breath.

_Slap!_

"_Language_, Arthur!"

Obviously not quietly enough. Arthur glared mutinously at the floor as he rubbed the back of his head. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Guinevere and the knights watching the events unfolding with extremely smug expressions.

Traitors.

"Hello, Hunith. Nice to see you too."

_Slap!_

"Cheeky brat. . . . Arthur, you know that you're like a son to me, don't you?" Nod. "You know that Merlin thinks of you as his brother, don't you?" Pause. Raised hand – hasty nod. "And you know that, as a mother, I worry about my boys when they are away from me, don't you?" Nod. "And that I trust you to look out for each other? And that I expect you to resolve your differences civilly and without your own powers influencing the quarrel?" Nod, nod.

"So why have I heard that you haven't been very nice to Merlin?"

In a burst of indignation Arthur cried, "He lied to me for ages and he kept loads of secrets for years and he turned my cloak pink and left me with donkey ears and-"

"Stop!" Arthur went back to glaring mutinously at the floor.

"Merlin!" Merlin entered, also looking at the floor. He went to stand behind Hunith.

"Now, Merlin, I know that you were placed in an impossible position and you were forced to lie to Arthur, but what's this I hear about pink cloaks and donkey ears. . . . ?"

"Well he's a prat and he makes me do too many chores and most of them take work away from the servants whose job it is to do them and I didn't even give him the donkey ears it just took me a while to get the enchantment right to take them away and the cloak was a laundry accident that wasn't even my fault-"

"Stop!" Merlin's tirade ended just as swiftly as Arthur's had.

"Now, it seems that apologies are in order. Merlin, say sorry for taking too long to fix things that should have taken you no time at all just to embarrass Arthur."

"But-!"

"Merlin!"

". . . . Sorry."

"Thank you. Now, Arthur, you're going to apologise for being mean to Merlin; giving him too many chores and throwing things at him all the time."

"How do you know about-?!"

"I'm a mother. I brought up the world's most powerful creature of magic single-handedly without a single drop of magic myself. _I know everything_."

Gulp. ". . . . Sorry."

Hunith brightened instantly. "Excellent! Now, Arthur, Merlin, shake hands." The boys stared at each other uncertainly. ". . . . NOW!" They jumped about a foot in the air and hurriedly shook hands. "Good boys!" Hunith turned to leave. "Gaius, Gwen, I'm trusting you to look after them."

"Yes, Hunith." The pair smiled as they watched the two most powerful men in Albion cower before this tiny wisp of a woman.

Hunith smiled and made to leave. Just as she was about to pass through the doors, she fixed them with a final, piercing glare and added, "You boys play nicely, now."

The King and the warlock glanced at each other warily as they say, "Yes, Mother."

As the doors closed, one sentence drifts through them. . . .

"I can't _believe_ you told on me!"


End file.
